THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
tory birds, the big-game animals and
smaller fur bearers, the minerals and
methods of mining, and in the magnifi
cence and variety of the scenery, repre
sented in well-defined mountain ranges
and isolated peaks, the foaming cascades,
the giant glaciers and ice fields, the
rivers and intervening lakes, and the
hundreds of unexplored fiords of the
eastern and southern shore.
Here and there snow-capped moun
tains drop to plateaux, rough and shaggy
in crimson coats of moss or yellow
barked willows, and further down the
green coniferous forests touch the tun
dra, dotted with glistening ponds, the
feeding place for moose and the home of
the black fly and mosquito.
Here during the summer solstice are
weeks of brilliant weather and periods
of wet and fog, while the frequent seis
mic disturbances give notice how super
ficial are the ice fields and the blizzards
in a country of great volcanic energy.
Here is a mid-year season, when the
calendar days are separated by an hour
of twilight, and again when the trapper,
in his sheltered winter cabin, cannot see.
the sluggard sun above the horizon of
the surrounding mountains.
Here are tidal waves and rip-raps of
Turnagain Arm, like those of the Bay of
Fundy, and here so rare the atmosphere
that at times Mt. McKinley, distant 200
miles to the north, can be seen from the
higher mountain tops.
So many accurate and graphic accounts
have been written of trips along the
Alaskan coast that any effort to duplicate
or vary the same may be dispensed with
here.
On leaving Lake Superior and at the
last moment I was obliged, owing to
sickness in his family, to get a substitute
for my old Michigan guide, John Ham
mer, who for 25 years had accompanied
me on various trips. Charles Anderson,
who took his place, had frequently been
employed by me in various capacities,
and possessed a fair knowledge of the
woods and waters.
On July 8 we left Seattle for Seward,
and had pleasant weather throughout
most of the voyage.
Toward sunset on the evening of July
14 the steamer entered Resurrection Bay,
which penetrates deeply into the Kenai
Peninsula, forming the most wonderful
harbor on the Alaskan coast and open
throughout the winter, when the Great
Lakes and connecting rivers are closed
for many months.
After a run of ten miles between two
snow-covered ranges paralleling the bay,
we reached the town of Seward, and the
first responding to the shrill and echoing
whistle were a hundred or more dogs, of
every breed and color, who amicably
ranged themselves in several compact
rows along the edge of the dock, in hopes.
that some portion of the garbage saved
by the kindly steward would fall to their
lot (see page 431). In their home
grounds or street fronts these shaggy
beasts maintain a dead-line against all
canine intruders, but at the wharf there
was no distinction based upon race, size,
sex, or relationship. Whenever a steamer
whistled at night, or any unusual noise
aroused them, the wolf-like howl, rising
and falling in chorus, told plainly of the
near kinship of many of these to the
gaunt and ravenous creatures of the
forest and rocky gulches.
On disembarking we were met by an
obliging inn-keeper and soon were in
earnest confab with our local guide,
Thomas B. Towle, who had just come in
from his mining camp, on the upper
Kenai River, with the information that a
launch would meet us at the lake, two
days later, on the arrival of the motor
train.
At Seward so varied and reasonable
are the supplies needed on a camping
trip that little need be brought from the
outside, while the courteous and reliable
character of the inhabitants, private and
official, makes the entry and return to
this little town a source of pleasure and
kindly recollection. In fact this may be
said of most 'Alaskans, for their trials
and struggles, like placer mining, have
removed the rough and undesirable from
their midst.
On the morning of July 17 we boarded
a gasoline car of the Alaskan Northern
Railroad, en route to the upper Kenai
Lake, 23 miles to the north, while the
canoe and bulk of the provisions were to
be forwarded by freight several days
later. The railroad in question extends
430